


Pumpkin Guts

by beforethedawn, ConstructFairytales, Destinyawakened



Series: When in Romania... [2]
Category: Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal Extended Universe - Fandom, The Path (TV)
Genre: #ThePumpkinIsPeople, Bottom!Cal, Dirty Talk, Fluff, Love, M/M, Meyerist Romanian Compound, Sex, Smut, doting, halloween fic, hannigram AU, top!nigel, veggiedogs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 23:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8421295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beforethedawn/pseuds/beforethedawn, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstructFairytales/pseuds/ConstructFairytales, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destinyawakened/pseuds/Destinyawakened
Summary: Cal's feeling reminiscent of a childhood long past, and wants to relive a little bit of a time more innocent, before things got complicated, before his mother... Nigel helps Cal on his quest for pumpkins, in Romania. Fluff ensues, smut, etc.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1) No Beta, light edit from us. If it's horrible please contact us on [TUMBLR](http://constructfairytales.tumblr.com)  
> 2) We did a little research, and halloween isn't a big thing like it is in the USA in Romania. At least from what we found, if that's wrong, well this is just a fic.  
> 3) Fic inspired by the ever great Hugh Dancy picking out pumpkins photo. [You can see it here](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/Cu7IFKQWIAAQkvs.jpg)

The Romanian compound had been done for a few months by the time Cal had been able to get back to the streets and start to share the word of Movement with the locale. Of course, he didn’t take into account the fact that he spoke no Romanian. He knew just the few words he caught from Nigel, and those were mostly dirty. He had a few local recruits build up pamphlets in Romanian, which he handed out to those who actually looked him in the eye, but the most Cal ever got from anyone coming by were those mostly looking for a place to sleep. Cal took them in, of course, but no one ever stayed once they found out what Meyerism was about.

With the fall season approaching, Cal found himself missing New York more and more. Though the Meyerists didn’t believe in Halloween or anything surrounding it, Cal had fond memories of carving pumpkins as something to do, as decorations, something festive. He hadn’t done it in years, the compounds did away with unneeded holiday decorations years ago, but as down as Cal felt about everything, he really wanted decorate at least his own bungalow.

On his way out of the city, however, Cal stopped by a few spots and couldn’t find pumpkins anywhere. He parked outside of Nigel’s place, though he hadn’t called first, the other man hardly ever cared if Cal came by unannounced. He had a key, sure, but Cal knocked anyway.

“Who the fuck is it?” Nigel bellered from inside his place, over music in the background that covered the sound of a gun being cocked and readied.

“The man you haven’t asked to marry you yet,” Cal said, mostly deadpanned, but he did like giving Nigel a hard time about that, though neither one of them were in a hurry.

Nigel opened the door with an easy smile, and pulled Cal inside. He kissed Cal on the lips as he closed the door with his foot, and disarmed the gun with one hand. “I told you, blue eyes, just come in, you don’t have to fucking knock. You have a key.”

“I never know if you’re busy with…  _ business _ ,” Cal explained, inching his fingers around Nigel’s trim waist.

“I don’t do business here, that’s just shitting where I eat,” Nigel sighed, and kissed Cal again, happy to see him, as always. “Fucking missed you…”

Cal didn’t make it a point to ask many questions when it came to what Nigel did, so he just assumed a lot. “Missed you, too,” he whispered against Nigel’s lips, always able to count on him to be able to lift his spirits.

Nigel dropped his hands to Cal’s hips as he looked at him, close-up, then kissed his lips again, slowly. They saw each other nearly every day. The days that Cal didn’t call or come by, Nigel ended up going to the compound at night. He was protective, and trusted no one around Cal, especially in Romania. “What are you up to today, gorgeous?”

“Besides being horribly discouraged, I was on the hunt for pumpkins.” But as it was now, Cal had forgotten about pumpkins the second Nigel’s familiar presence surrounded him, soothing him. “I really need to convert you so you can come translate for me…”

Nigel laughed at the idea of converting, and kissed Cal again. “I can fucking translate for you without converting,” he murmured, and cupped Cal’s face with both hands, gazing at his gorgeous face. “Pumpkins?”

Cal rolled his eyes, but let go for now. “It’s Autumn. Pumpkins are seasonal. I wanted to do some decorating around the compound. Well, my place. Make it feel more like home.”

“We’ll go fucking get some then, easy,” Nigel shrugged, and reached toward the coffee table for his wallet. “It’s an American thing? Pumpkins in the house?” Nigel asked with a little smirk. 

In America, Cal was gorgeous, but in Romania, he was gorgeous and adorably exotic. It was cute as hell, but Nigel could tell Cal was getting a little homesick, no matter what they’d left behind in the states.

“Sometimes in the house, but usually outside of the house,” Cal explained, twirling his keys over one finger as he let Nigel grab his things. “Halloween is popular in the States, but not with Meyerism. I loved it when I was really little…”

“Then we’ll get as many fucking pumpkins as you want. Come on, I’ll drive,” Nigel said as he shut and locked his door after hiding his gun in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He slid a pair of sunglasses on, and took Cal’s hand before walking down the stairs and out of the building with him.

They didn’t have to hide anything here, everyone was open to their relationship, and Cal felt no need to drop Nigel’s hand the second they stepped out onto the streets. Their palms slid together, heated friction warming them through that always seemed to spark when they touched. “Don’t like being seen in my Meyer-mobile?” he chuckled.

Nigel laughed at the term and shook his head, unlocking his own dark car for them. “I’m just better at driving in Bucharest,” he explained with a wink.

“That’s code for you don’t want to be seen in my car,” Cal said, amusement thick in his tone as he slid into the passenger seat, and buckled in. Despite the coverage he got with Nigel and the earthquake months and months ago, things seemed to have died down with people being interested. The fifteen minutes of fame died quickly.

Nigel started the car, and peeled off, headed down the narrow street, toward the edge of the city. “There’s a farmer’s market by the river, they’ll have something,” he said, and took Cal’s hand as he took a sharp corner. Nigel was congratulated on surviving the building’s collapse around him when he returned to Romania, and if anything, his survival made him seem more intimidating than ever to those in his business. Nigel seemed immortal, after that.

“Pumpkins grow here?” Cal asked, having never really paid much attention, then again he was pretty busy most of the time, with the compound or Nigel.

“Yeah, we’ve got fucking pumpkins,” Nigel laughed, and looked over at Cal while he drove like a stunt driver, with one hand, weaving in and out of traffic with ease and perfect control. “Farmers grow them, sell them, people eat them. Big fucking orange ones, right?”

“Yes. Bigger the better,” Cal grinned over at Nigel, never once worried with the way he drove, his trust in Nigel had only grown since they left America.

Nigel helped Cal get around Bucharest, showing him where the locals ate, showing him where not to go, shouting in faces on a couple occasions when people tried to take advantage of Cal’s lack of fluency in Romanian to rip him off.. It was nice. “Bigger the better, typical fucking American,” Nigel said, fondly, and gave Cal’s thigh a squeeze.

“The end effect is better when it’s bigger,” Cal promised, and rubbed his hand over Nigel’s, and locked their fingers together.

“Yeah? Is that why you picked me?” Nigel chuckled, stealing a look at Cal with a devilish smirk as they headed over a narrow bridge.

No matter how shitty Cal's day, Nigel lit it up almost instantly. That was how Cal knew there was no one else but Nigel. “Yes. The  _ only  _ reason,” Cal teased, watching Nigel with his big, blue eyes.

Nigel maneuvered the car into a parking space, and leaned over to kiss Cal’s mouth, long and hard as he shifted the car into park and shut it off. He tossed his sunglasses in the back seat before Nigel’s hand gripped the striped fabric of Cal’s shirt, and pulled him closer as he sucked Cal’s tongue slowly, then pulled back. “As long as you fucking picked me, I don’t care why.”

The Light had shown Cal the way to Nigel, and for that he was grateful everyday. He kept their faces close long after their kiss, just gazing into Nigel's amber eyes, noses brushing. “I'll always pick you. I'd do it again and again.”

Nigel looked darkly radiant at those words, and kissed them off of Cal’s lips, slowly. “Dunno how I got so fucking lucky…” he murmured.

“Me either,” Cal whispered back, hand on Nigel's chest as he kissed him almost agonizingly slowly.

Nigel groaned, and undid Cal’s seat belt, then dragged him into his lap in the driver’s seat as they kissed, strong enough that he could move Cal’s muscular frame when he wanted to.

Cal straddled the other man, hands on his shoulders tightly, kissing down into his mouth hard and breathlessly. “Nigel-”

“Like I said, fucking missed you,” Nigel groaned, palming Cal’s ass slowly.

They saw each other everyday and yet they were on each other like teenagers, who hadn't seen each other in weeks. Cal groaned, raking hands down Nigel's chest slowly, panting against his mouth. “I can tell…”

Cal was always pent up and passionate. Nigel fucking loved that. They fed off of one another’s lust, barely able to keep their hands off of each other for a second. “Love your ass in these jeans…”

“These?” Cal asked, whispered between their mouths as collided once more, Cal’s hips grinding down on Nigel’s, well aware that the car was tinted dark enough no one could see them from the side.

“Yeah,” Nigel managed to growl, his slim hips undulating up against Cal’s slowly, grinding them together through their jeans. “Should have fucking pinned you against the wall the second you walked in.”

“I was waiting for it,” Cal gasped, honestly, not sure how they even got to the part about

pumpkins without mauling each other first.

Nigel undid Cal’s pants, and reached his hand in, stroking Cal. He groaned at how perfectly hard Cal’s cock was, smooth and throbbing in his palm. “We’ll just have to make up for it…”

“Fuck,” Cal moaned, lifting his hips enough to shirk the tight pants down his ass and thighs. He undid Nigel's pants.

Nigel pushed his seat back with his feet and a quick move of his free hand against a lever, then bit a bright red mark against the side of Cal’s neck. “I’d love to…” he moaned, smirking.

Cal had grown to love the feel of Nigel inside of him, there was nothing he loved more than it, than the man himself, of course. Cal pushed Nigel’s pants down and pulled his cock out. “Did you ever get lube for the car?”

“What the fuck are glove compartments for?” Nigel asked, breathlessly, and nodded with a smirk at the glove box, then stroked their cocks together with a slow, hot hand, moaning at the feeling of it, and the sight of hard-bodied Cal straddling his lap.

Cal bent back, stretching out his striped shirt clad torso as he did, and opened the glove box, and pulled out the new bottle of lube. He tore the plastic seal off with his teeth. He bent and pressed a kiss down into Nigel’s mouth as he slathered his fingers with the liquid and reached between his own thighs, under his balls, to lube himself.

“Fuck, I love it when you do that,” Nigel whispered, still stroking them as Cal fingered himself. “Atta boy…” Nigel bit Cal’s ear, growling softly into it.

Cal worked himself open, pressing his hips into Nigel’s hands wantonly. His breathing deepened, his breath panted. He slathered more lube onto Nigel’s cock, and then slipped the girth inside of himself, slowly. “Nigel…”

Nigel’s scruffy jaw dropped, and he swore in Romanian as Cal sank over him. Nothing in the fucking world felt that good, nothing. Cal was the only heaven Nigel would ever let himself believe in. He kneaded Cal’s ass with both large hands, then slapped one ivory cheek, and pressed himself up, into Cal, deep and slow as their eyes locked.

If they didn’t get it out now, they wouldn’t make it through the fucking farmer’s market, and Cal knew it. He sank down hard, and pressed up again, starting an even, but frantic rhythm, desperate to get  Nigel to tap that sweet spot over and over again.

“Cal,” Nigel moaned, and guided Cal over him by the hips as he bit Cal’s hard nipple through his striped shirt. “Fuck, Cal, yeah, ride my cock faster. Look at you…” Nigel moaned, throatily, and slapped Cal’s perfect ass again, glad his car windows were dark.

“Fuck-” Cal swore at the slap and started to grind down faster, the tip of Nigel’s cock beating against his prostate relentlessly now as the brunet started to sweat, beads of his falling down creamy white skin and under his shirt.

“You like my cock inside you?” Nigel asked, his accent thick and his eyes dark as he slammed his hips up against Cal’s ass, fucking him with impatient passion, as though they’d been kept apart for years.

“Yes,” Cal said, breathlessly, panting out as Nigel gazed up at him like, with heavy lids and dark eyes. Cal snaked his hand up Nigel’s chest and up his neck, fingers inching into his mouth as he leaned over to kiss Nigel sloppily.

Nigel was about to say something filthy, but Cal kissed him as he gripped Cal with both arms and drilled his cock into Cal’s tight, muscular body, fucking him like the world was about to end, and this was the last thing either of them would feel.

Heat flushed through Cal as he started to feel the peak boil at the base of his spine, and his hips moved faster to get  _ more _ from the other man, gasping. “Nigel… Nigel! Fuck!” Cal’s big blue eyes blazed down at the Romanian, their mouths just an inch apart, breathing hard against the other.

“Come on, Cal, come on, come for me-” Nigel snarled, his fingernails digging into Cal’s smooth, white flesh as he began to come inside him, and roared wordlessly, shaking from head to toe as he arched up into Cal’s body and felt himself implode.

Cal came with a shuddering, explosive orgasm, that spilled over against Nigel’s  stomach, his shirt pushed up where Cal had ran hands over his stomach before. Quaking, he finally stopped, waves of pleasure still beating through him as he caught his breath. 

“Fuck ….” Nigel whispered, and gasped for breath when Cal came. He didn’t care that they were a mess now, or that they were still crammed into one seat in the car … he felt like he could fucking fly. Cal was better than any drug. 

“We should really just fuck first and do our errands after,” Cal whispered, wiping come from Nigel’s stomach with his hand, which he then licked from his fingers slowly.

Nigel laughed at that, and then let out a soft moan as he watched Cal lick his come like that. “Fuck errands, let’s just go lay in bed,” he purred, and kissed Cal’s lips.

“We’re already here,” Cal whispered back, big blue eyes begging for Nigel to help him at least get one pumpkin.

“Okay, okay,” Nigel sighed, unable to resist Cal’s big fucking blue eyes. He melted Nigel with them, with nothing but a glance. It was totally fucking unfair. “We’ll get your pumpkin, then go back to my place.”

“Deal,” Cal said, doing himself up, even though he knew he’d been feeling the wet aftermath inside of himself as they walked. He knew Nigel liked that, though.

Nigel fucking loved knowing Cal was wet and sticky in public, because of him. It usually led to another round or two of fevered screwing by the end of the night. Nigel did himself up, and managed to kiss Cal’s neck again before he opened the door. Cool, dry air rushed into the steamed up car. “After you, gorgeous.”

Cal sighed heavily as the cool air hit his flushed skin, and took Nigel’s hand, warm and sweaty. “Now… pumpkins.”

“Just down here,” Nigel nodded as he locked the car up, and headed down to the farmer’s market by the river with Cal. The market was a crowded outdoor bazaar of vegetables, spices, baking, all of it homemade in some way. “Why the fuck not just grow some at the … commune?”

“I didn’t think about it in time. We haven’t had a lot of time to get the garden going yet,” Cal explained, twining his fingers around Nigel’s, holding him close as he nearly wrapped himself around his arm.

They passed stalls selling tomatoes, cabbage, potatoes, smoked fish, but had yet to see a pumpkin. “Not to mention you were busy with me,” Nigel smirked.

“You do occupy a lot of my time,” Cal said, fondly, not at all unhappy with that. He looked at the stalls, discouraged, but didn’t say anything as they continued on.

“I do my fucking best to occupy as much of it as I can,” Nigel teased, and leaned over to a vendor, talking for a few seconds in rapid fire Romanian. “No pumpkins here, gorgeous.”

Cal tried his best not to look too sad by this and squeezed Nigel’s hand. “No where here?”

Nigel talked with the old woman behind the stall, and passed her a bill, at which she brightened, and began pointing down the road as she spoke very quickly. Nigel nodded, and walked in that direction with Cal. “Another market across town will have them.”

“Across town?” Cal asked as they walked, “We don’t need the car?” Cal was up for the walk, but it was getting late.

“We can drive, sure,” Nigel shrugged, and headed back to the car with Cal, still hand in hand. “Better to carry those big orange motherfuckers home in…”

“They’ll be too heavy for you to carry all that way,” Cal teased, and kissed Nigel’s cheek once and then got into the car once it was unlocked.

“I could fucking carry you all that way if I had to,” Nigel rumbled as he got in the driver’s side, and put his sunglasses on again before starting the car and starting off toward the other side of the city.

Cal raised his brows toward Nigel with a chuckle, one hand over his mouth. “Sure…”

“You don’t fucking think I could?” Nigel asked, with a look at Cal as he drove over another narrow bridge.

“This far? Maybe. Hard to say I think…” Cal teased, grinning over at Nigel, patting his thigh.

“My leg’s all fucking healed up. If I can take a fucking building falling on me, I can carry you anywhere I fucking need to,” Nigel protested.

Cal rubbed and squeezed Nigel’s thigh of the leg that had been broken, that Cal himself had helped nurse back to health again. “And who saved you to begin with?”

“You,” Nigel said with a laugh after a big sigh, and shifted his leg toward Cal at the touch.

Their quarrels were easily forgotten, as Cal leaned over and kissed Nigel’s jaw. “My miracle.”

“Yeah, your fucking miracle is right,” Nigel chuckled, and parked again near a smaller outdoor market. He shut off the car and leaned closer to kiss Cal.

Cal smiled against Nigel’s lips, and then kissed him sweetly. “Best miracle I ever had.”

“How many miracles have you had, exactly?” Nigel asked softly against Cal’s mouth, and nipped at his lower lip, playfully.

Cal shrugged, and  slipped out of Nigel’s reach. “You’re my first, but I don’t think anyone is going to top you.” He grinned over at Nigel madly. “Besides me.”

Nigel burst out laughing at the dirty joke, and leaned all the way across the car to pin Cal against the window for a deep, warm kiss. “Damn right you’re the only fucking thing that tops me,” he purred, still laughing.

Cal brushed his hand sup Nigel’s stomach to his chest, fondly, and bit his bottom lip. “Maybe I will again later…”

Nigel laughed, and kissed Cal again. Cal definitely didn’t top every time, but Nigel liked it more than he ever thought he’d like anyone doing that. He loved it. They switched off, did what they liked, and it was fucking amazing. “Not if you make fun of me again,” Nigel teased, and got out of the car.

“No?” Cal asked, getting out, the wetness between his cheeks more evident to him now after sitting down for a few minutes.

“Gotta have some standards,” Nigel teased, and took Cal’s hand in his own after he locked the car, then strolled toward the small market with him. 

“How many markets are there?” Cal slipped his fingers between Nigel’s, palm to palm, like they were made for each other.

“Not many except on the weekends, I’m surprised this is open,” Nigel said, and squeezed Cal’s hand. “At least it’s not fucking snowing yet.”

“Yet,” Cal sighed, though he didn’t mind the snow, there was enough of it in New York. “So what do you Romanians do for Halloween?”

“Halloween is about Dracula here, of fucking course,” Nigel said with a roll of his eyes. “People dress up like him, some of them go into old castles for parties, spend the night there. People hang garlic outside, it’s a bunch of superstitious fuckery.”

“Huh,” Cal said, and looked at Nigel. “I never would have guessed.”

“It’s a good way to get some fucking free garlic, if you’re poor,” he laughed, and looked at some jewelry in a booth that they wandered past.

“That sounds horrible, for those who are poor enough to need to,” Cal said, sympathetically, eyes on other venders, trying to find his pumpkins.

Nigel remembered being that poor, but said nothing, just followed Cal through the market. “Vegetables over there…” he nodded.

Cal had lived in tent when he was five, with his father, in what was now the East Coast Compound. There was no money, he understood, but it was different here, for these people, for Nigel… He squeezed the other man’s hand as they went along, searchingly.

Nigel nodded at a vendor, and asked a question in Romanian. The man eyed Nigel, and the tattoo on his neck, then just pointed to answer him, down the street. “Might be some down here…”

“ _ Another _ market?” Cal asked, brows raised expectantly at Nigel.

“Do you want pumpkins, or not?” Nigel asked, with a little smile. “This is how we shop, not big ass supermarket stores.”

Cal scowled a little. “Is it far?”

“Down the block. Come on, you’ve got good legs, you can walk a little,” Nigel teased, and stole a look at Cal’s ass as they headed down the narrow street together.

“I thought you said it was lucky any were open at all?” Cal asked, as they walked, hardly averse to exercise.

“The outdoor ones, yeah, but there are indoor markets, just not as fucking big as football pitches,” Nigel muttered, “you know, little shops run by old people.”

“Okay…” Cal took Nigel’s hand once again, as they walked, the sun starting to set.

They pushed their way into a little shop, and a bell over the door rang. Sure enough, an old couple worked behind a counter, indifferent to their arrival. “Better have some fucking pumpkins, come on…” Nigel sighed, and walked with Cal to the produce wall.

Cal kept his eyes open, and he saw squashes, different kinds, and things that looked like pumpkins but weren’t orange. “Getting closer…”

“What the  _ fuck _ are these?” Nigel asked, picking one up with one hand, looking at it skeptically.

“Squash. Pumpkin is a squash, Nigel. Most are edible. But we don’t want these, we want pumpkins,” Cal explained, figuring he might just have to deal with white ones.

“Wait, so these are just ugly fucking pumpkins?” Nigel frowned, and set the squash down with disgust, like it offended him.

“The white ones? Just another kind of pumpkin. The orange are traditional,” the movement leader explained again, picking out three, and carrying two himself and handing Nigel one.

“We’re not getting ugly fucking pumpkins, gorgeous. We’re going to get big fucking orange ones. I have an idea,” Nigel said, whipping out his phone.

Cal set the pumpkins down, with a sigh. “Okay…” He knew nothing about the land here, not enough to get along anyway, and had to trust Nigel’s judgement.

Nigel searched on his phone for a moment, frowning at the screen in concentration before he smirked. “If you can’t find what you want from a dealer, go straight to the supplier,” Nigel muttered, and walked out of the store with Cal, back toward the car.

“A farm?” Cal asked, a little more excited than maybe he should have been about it, taking the steps a little faster. “Ma took me to a pumpkin patch once when I was four. They had a corn maze, and so many pumpkins…” Cal’s voice lingered off a little at that, reminiscent in ways he didn’t usually allow himself to be.

“This’ll be better,” Nigel promised, and squeezed Cal’s hand with a little smirk at him, “we’ll stuff my car fucking full of them. It’s twenty minutes from here, not that far.”

Nigel was good at making better memories for Cal, so the younger man let him, and got back into the car. “Really? Whole trunk full?”

“Yeah. Fuck, why the hell not?” Nigel shrugged. He didn’t give a shit if Cal wanted to pack the damn back seat full too, whatever made his eyes sparkle like that. It wasn’t fucking diamonds, it was a bunch of pumpkins, for Christ’s sake.

Cal buckled in and smiled, relaxing back into the seat. “We don’t need that many, just enough to decorate my bungalow and your place…”

It was the simple, stupid little things that made Cal smile like that. Nigel loved that about him, and leaned over to kiss his neck as he settled into the driver’s seat. “Whatever you say, blue eyes,” he said, started the car, and headed out for the edge of the city.

“I could ask for the moon and you’d find some way to try and get it for me,” Cal said, wondering if Nigel listened half the time, but he wasn’t annoyed.

Nigel chuckled at Cal, and stole a look at him as he tore through an intersection and headed onto a wider road, “I’d find a fucking way to get it.”

Cal was still not sure why Nigel wanted him, why he loved him, why… he did anything for Cal. And yet, he did. He reached over and took Nigel’s hand again. “Always got my back, that’s all I need.”

Nigel’s face lit up at that, as though that was by far the highest praise Cal could possibly give him, and he swallowed hard. “Damn right I do,” he murmured, and gave Cal’s hand a squeeze. “Always will.”

Cal sighed in deeply, quiet the rest of the way out to the farm, watching the countryside, or what he assumed was, it seemed like it.

Bucharest’s buildings gave way to green hills and increasingly dense trees as Nigel drove fast down the highway, watching Cal out of the corner of his eye. They arrived at the farm, which was visible from the road, fields full of orange. Nigel parked the car, and climbed out, finding the sign that directed people where to pay to pick their pumpkins.

It almost felt like Autumn in  New York all over again, and Cal got out, giddy, mostly to just feel some ounce of normalcy he hadn’t felt in years. “You’ve never done this?”

“Do I look like I go to a lot of fucking farms?” Nigel asked dryly, and showed Cal where they were told to look for pumpkins. A few other customers were already at work, most of them families with children.

Cal brightened at all the pumpkins, a smile spreading over his face, reaching his eyes. “There’s a lot to choose from.”

“You want big ones, right?” Nigel asked, and bent down to pick up one of them that he had to lift with both arms after snapping it off the vine.

“Perfect, a few of those,” Cal said, shifting from foot to foot as he wandered nearby to find more pumpkins.

Nigel smirked to himself at the way Cal shifted from foot to foot, like an excited kid, and carried the first huge pumpkin to the car before going back to find another. “You’re fucking adorable,” he whispered as he passed Cal, and kissed his cheek as he walked by.

A flush spread over Cal's cheeks and part of his exposed neck, and he ducked his head, watching Nigel. Cal knew he had to work on his public presence, but with Nigel, he could relax, he didn't have a worry so much about coming off confident all the time, or whether his actions were too child like, if he'd be taken seriously. This was not something he would have done in front of anyone at the compound.

“Me?” Cal squatted to snap another large pumpkin off the vine, and scooped it up under one arm.

Nigel waited for Cal, looking back at him as he lifted the pumpkin. “Who knew a big fucking melon could make you so happy?” he chuckled, walking with Cal when he caught up.

“It's a squash,” Cal said, simply. “Not a fruit.” He smiled, holding the pumpkin easily under one arm.

“Whatever,” Nigel shrugged, and hefted the second huge pumpkin into the sizable trunk of his car. “Fucking pumpkins.”

“One more?” Cal asked, putting his into the trunk. Four would be a good number.

“Two more,” Nigel said with a grin. He loved spoiling Cal, and Cal was easy to spoil, pleased with the smallest things. It was fucking sweet.

Cal never needed much, that was certain, but he did take whatever Nigel gave. “Five total?”

“Well, we’re putting them in your place and my place right? How many go in a house in America? Get twice that fucking many,” Nigel said as he wrestled the pumpkin in the trunk. Luckily, the trunk had a lot of room, for many purposes.

“They go outside, and it depends on the family. Usually each child gets one, but some adults enjoy them just as much,” Cal shrugged, not sure what he would do with more than six at most. “How about six? Three at my place, three at yours?”

“Sure, grab one more,” Nigel said as he loaded the car, and stayed by the trunk while he nodded for Cal to pick one more pumpkin out.

Cal picked out a large one, big and round and perfect. He heaved it up with his strong arms and put it in the trunk. “Don’t they need to weigh them for the price?” He nodded toward the owners of the farm.

Nigel shook his head, and went up to pay one of the men after talking with him, they seemed to barter, then Nigel handed over some cash and walked back to the car. “Their scales are shit anyway,” Nigel chuckled, and got in the driver’s side again.

“Just like that?” Cal asked, sipping back into the car. “You have sharp knives at your place right? Some newspaper you don’t need?”

“I got a sharp knife on me right now, why?” Nigel asked as he backed the car up and headed toward the city.

“For carving,” Cal replied, as if the answer would be obvious, though clearly Nigel had no idea what it was Cal intended to do with these pumpkins. “We’ll need candles too.”

Nigel blinked, confused, and looked over at Cal with a furrow between his pale eyebrows. “What the fuck for? Are we throwing a funeral for them?”

“You’ve never carved a pumpkin?” Cal asked, hands clasped together in his lap.

“Unless Pumpkin is the street name of some shady-ass dealer who tried to rip me off, no. I’ve never fucking bought one, either. What are we carving them for?” Nigel asked, baffled.

For decorating with,” Cal said simply. “I’ll show you when we get back.”

“Okay, what the hell are we carving them into, then?” Nigel had obviously never encountered a Jack O’Lantern, too busy surviving and clawing out his place in the world.

“Anything you want. It used to be just faces, scary ones, to keep the ghosts away, but over the years, society has gotten creative and people carve whatever they want,” Cal explained, thoroughly, as well as he could on the topic. “You scoop the insides out first, of course.”

“Only in America,” Nigel laughed, and smirked as they drove. They arrived back at Nigel’s place in no time, and he parked close to the building. “What do you do with the insides?”

“Some people throw it out, some people clean the seeds and bake them up to eat.” Cal loved roasted pumpkin seeds, but he hadn’t had them in a long, long time.

“Huh,” Nigel grunted, and climbed out of the car. He managed to take two of the larger pumpkins at once, and headed toward the door.

Cal grabbed two more, leaving two left in the trunk, and followed after Nigel. “I mean, you could compost it, give it back to the earth, too.”

“You mean throw it on some dirt?” Nigel asked as he held the door open for Cal with one foot, then headed up to his apartment. “Why the fuck would people want to eat seeds?”

“They’re a good source of protein and fiber,” Cal said, and and set the two pumpkins down and then started back down the steps for the others in the trunk.

“Oh, thank god,” Nigel said, dryly as he unlocked his door and carried the pumpkins into the kitchen to set them down, then waited for Cal to do the same before he kissed him.

All the pumpkins were in, and then Cal helped carry them up the stairs to the apartment, not wanting to make more trips to the car. He kissed Nigel once at the door and then jogged to get the last two.

Nigel waited in the kitchen for Cal, and started to pull out knives. He had more knives in his kitchen than he had almost anything else. Nigel couldn’t resist a good blade when he found one. “Take your pick,” he said to Cal when Cal brought the last two in.

Cal set them all on the counter for now and then found the last few days worth of newspaper and set that out over the table. He placed the pumpkins on it, lined up. Then, Cal picked up long, thick, sharp knife, good for cutting large holes, first.  “Innards first.”

The movement leader started to cut large holes into the tops of all the pumpkins, taking the stem off and set them aside.

Nigel watched with a little smile, leaning back against one of the windows as Cal started to work. “Smells like … what the fuck is that smell? Is that the pumpkins?” Nigel asked and leaned closer, taking a breath of the strange, fresh smell.

“Yes. It’s not bad,” Cal said, leaving every pumpkins topless now, he took off his watch and set it aside, and rolled up his striped sleeves. 

Nigel rolled up his sleeves, and looked in one of the pumpkins, then reached a hand in, yanked out the insides, and tossed it in the sink. “All this shit goes out?”

“Yes, all the stringy bits and seeds,” Cal explained, and smiled over at Nigel as they both started to clean out the pumpkins, tossing goop out the sides.

“Feels like cold guts,” Nigel muttered in a tone that suggested it wasn’t a complaint, just an observation. He yanked out thick handfuls, and once one pumpkin was hollow, moved to the next, both hands covered in orange goo up to his forearms.

A grin flitted across Cal’s features, watching Nigel. Whether the man had himself elbow deep in blood or pumpkin guts, Cal knew he’d love him no matter. “Yeah? I’ve never put my hands in someone’s guts before…” He moved onto another pumpkin, two down.

“It’s like this, but warm,” Nigel chuckled, and leaned closer to nip at Cal’s earlobe as they worked. The strange smell of the fresh vegetation and the feeling of pumpkin goop drying on his arms made this memorable, in the best way. He never thought he’d enjoy doing anything so … fucking wholesome. Seeing Cal enjoy himself, though, it was great. It wasn’t even a sacrifice.

“Gross,” Cal teased, and slopped out more innards onto the table, moving onto another. He turned his head to kiss Nigel, nosing against him.

“Your … group doesn’t let you do this in America?” Nigel asked, and licked his lips as he looked Cal over, appreciatively.

“We did early on in the Movement, before real structure was settled and agreed upon. We don’t celebrate holidays like this. Though, Halloween is hardly a spiritual day, Steve thought it made sense to leave it off anyway, the idea around it didn’t match our values,” Cal explained, hardly seeming as though he cared about that right this second.

Finally he cleaned the last pumpkin and  went to find a slightly smaller knife and a sharpie. “This is the fun part. You draw what you want and then cut it out.”

“And it can be anything?” Nigel asked, after huffing a strand of silver hair out of his face, and brandishing the sharpie.

“Yes. Like I said, traditionally,  kids would make faces to scare away the ghosts and spirits, but it can be anything you want,” Cal said, and  used his own sharpie to draw the Meyerist Eye on the first one.

Nigel was hardly an artist, but set to work on his pumpkin, scribbling away until he pulled out his own knife, opened it, and started cutting the flesh, working the thick steel blade around the tough fiber. He knocked the middle pieces out and smirked, then started to refine the shape on the inside, and turned his pumpkin for Cal to see.

It was a hand with the middle finger raised, the other fingers folded down.

“That’s going to look wonderful next to the Eye,” Cal chuckled, rolling his eyes. “That one stays here.”

“Pfft,” Nigel huffed, but smiled at his pumpkin, and moved to the next, thinking it over this time. He couldn’t remember the last time he drew anything… Finally, he started working with the marker, and then the blade.

Cal cut out the eye in intricate designs, more artistic than many might give him credit for. He set the pumpkin down and moved on to the next one, drawing a big tree.

Nigel watched Cal as he worked, admiring how precise he managed to be. “You’re not bad at this,” he said, as he cut a glaring, angry looking eye out of one half of the lopsided face he was making.

“I studied a lot of things during my time under Steve’s wing, art included. I never pursued it for myself, but I wasn’t half bad at drawing,” Cal offered, offhandedly. “What are you making?” He lifted his eyes to see what Nigel second pumpkin was going to be, curious.

“A face,” Nigel answered as he carved part of the mouth. The pumpkin face looked like something out of a nightmare: asymmetrical and angry in expression, half-crazed, and almost looked like it was melting.

“That and the finger should keep the evil spirits out,” Cal teased, and set the marker down and pulled out a smaller knife, working the lines very carefully of his tree.

“The tree is nice, almost looks real. You’re a fucking artist,” Nigel said as he watched Cal work, head tilted.

“Hardly,” Cal shrugged, and kept at it. “What will your last one be?”

“Don’t fucking know yet,” Nigel shrugged, and looked at the pumpkin near his other two. “Haven’t drawn since I was a fucking kid, even then …” He picked up the marker and started to draw, however.

Cal shook  his head, the tree was taking him a long time. “If you finish before me, feel free to do my third one for me…” He liked that Nigel seemed to be having a good time, with something not blood and guts, knives and guns.

“No, three each,” Nigel said, still drawing on his pumpkin as he tipped it up to face him on the counter. “Besides I want at least one here you did.”

“You want one of mine?” Cal asked, carving through the branches.

“Yeah, I fucking want one of yours,” Nigel said as though that should be obvious, and watched Cal work again, then stood behind him to kiss his neck as he carved.

Cal flushed a little, letting Nigel watched him work. “What would you like on yours?”

“I dunno, surprise me,” Nigel said, and nipped Cal’s ear and then went back to his own pumpkin.

Working slowly, Cal finished his tree and set the pumpkin aside. He watched Nigel’s profile, and then started drawing on his last pumpkin, taking his time.

Nigel cut at his pumpkin, and then hollowed out the shape, fixed it a little, and took the bits out of where they’d fallen into the center of the gourd. “Here,” he said, turning it toward Cal. He had carved the shape of a pumpkin into the pumpkin. It was simple, but oddly sweet for the rough man.

Cal chuckled, brows raised at it, it was unoriginal but very Nigel in a certain way. “I love it.” Cal was going to put Nigel on the pumpkin, but had decided on on a howling wolf instead.

“Well you fucking love pumpkins, so …” Nigel shrugged, sort of embarrassed, and rinsed his knife under the tap water, then dried the blade on the leg of his jeans.

“I like them, I don't think I love them, not the way I love you, anyway,” Cal insisted, the outline of the wolf's head coming along as he now carved it out slowly.

The apples of Nigel’s cheeks shone as he grinned at that, and he closed his eyes, tossed his knife on the counter, and moved to Cal to hold him from behind while Cal worked, eyes still closed. “Yeah, I love you too, Blue Eyes.”

Cal rested back against Nigel, his firm shoulders relaxing. “As if you weren't aware…”

“Still nice to hear,” Nigel said, and turned his head so that his nose brushed Cal’s neck, cheek against Cal’s solid shoulder as his hands moved over Cal’s chest.

Chewing the inside of his cheek to concentrate, Cal canted his head to the side, loving the feel of Nigel's nose there, his hands on him, hot and perfect, even through his thick, striped shirt. “Reassuring?”

“Yeah,” Nigel murmured, and kissed Cal’s neck, snuggling him from behind with both arms.

“You're everything to me,” Cal said,  adding the last touches on the wolf outline. “These just need candles.”

“I might have some for when the fucking power goes out,” Nigel hummed, and kept kissing Cal’s neck. For man with such a shell about him, Cal’s words melted him.

“That would work, or some of those fake ones,” Cal said, craning his head to the side to expose his neck to Nigel, eyes half closed.

“Don’t have fake anything,” Nigel sighed, still busying himself with nuzzling Cal’s neck, and then his adorable ear.

Setting the knife down, Cal reached back and ran a hand through Nigel’s hair, tugging the long strands as he held him there, lips to his skin, right over the sensitive spots that really got him going. “No?”

“Fuck, no,” Nigel whispered again, and bit at Cal’s neck, softly, scraping his teeth over delicate nerves just beneath his ear.

“You’re all real?” Cal teased, rubbing his hand on Nigel’s thigh with a groan, pressing his ass up against his hips, gasping.

“A hundred percent, gorgeous,” Nigel whispered as he ground his hips forward, and ran one hand down Cal’s thigh, teasing him with the touch.

“Fuck-” Cal groaned, still wet between his ass cheeks, imagining Nigel fucking him right up against the wall, over the table, anywhere, really, it didn’t matter.

“Going to finish that pumpkin?” Nigel asked with a purr in his voice, and let his hands slip under the front of Cal’s shirt, palms running over his stomach.

Cal flexed under the touch of Nigel’s hands, and shook his head just once. “I can finish it later,” he said, though it was good enough for now, he couldn’t even think straight to know.

“Are you sure?” Nigel asked, and started to slip Cal’s belt undone, very slowly, almost taunting him with the languid pace.

“Yeah, it’ll still be here,” Cal whispered, tugging harder on Nigel’s hair, canting his head back to kiss him as he kicked off his boots.

“It sure as fuck will,” Nigel groaned, and pulled Cal back toward his bedroom with one arm.

Cal turned around and wrapped his arms around Nigel’s shoulders, following him wherever the other man would go. “Mhm…”

Nigel pulled Cal through the rooms, blindly, and into his messy, but large bedroom where he tackled Cal onto the bed, pinning him with the solid, hot weight of his long body. Cal chuckled, and started to undo Nigel’s shirt as he kissed his lips sloppily.

Nigel wrestled himself free of the shirt as Cal undid the buttons, and straddled Cal’s hips to peel Cal’s striped shirt up, off of his beautifully lean, toned body. “I fucking love looking at you,” Nigel groaned as he watched Cal’s stomach and chest appear before he pulled Cal’s shirt off, and tossed it aside.

“I couldn’t tell,” Cal whispered, letting his shirt drop to the floor, pants falling loose at his hips with the belt undone.

Nigel moved down, and pulled Cal’s pants and underwear over his ass, down his legs, and then tossed them aside. “Christ…” he moaned, and leaned down to drag his tongue over Cal’s cock, unable to resist.

Cal threaded fingers in Nigel’s hair as he moved between his muscular thighs, and gasped as the rasp of hot tongue, pressing his hips up slightly. “Fuck-”

Nigel started to suck at the head of Cal’s cock with a wicked look in his eyes, and wound his tongue over and around the head quickly. He delighted in making Cal swear like that, and wanted more out of his beautiful mouth.

Cal shook with need, tugging harder on Nigel’s hair as he spread his thighs and dug his heels into the bed, pushing up into his mouth. “I love when you suck me.” It was a pleasant reminder of one of their times together.

Nigel groaned and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked Cal, slowly, humming in reply to what Cal said, and how his cock pressed more deeply into Nigel’s mouth. He loved tasting Cal, feeling him push into his mouth like that, needily.

Groaning louder, Cal rolled his hip over and over into Nigel’s mouth, starting to lose himself to the pleasure of his raspy tongue. “Finger me…” he demanded, eyes half closed as he gaze at Nigel.

Nigel moaned at that, and pulled his mouth off of Cal, panting before he sucked his own fingers, then rubbed them against Cal’s ass. He pressed them inside Cal, and wrapped his mouth around Cal’s cock again.

“Yes-” Cal managed all at once as his body arched into the way Nigel felt doing that, pleasure seeping from every pour. “Harder.”

Cal, his Cal was deliciously bossy when he was turned on, a far cry from the pent-up, tightly buttoned down man he’d met the day of the quake. Nigel fingered Cal harder and faster, spreading and twisting them hard as he curled his knuckles against Cal’s prostate.

“Fuck, fuuuuck,” Cal cried out, tugging Nigel in closer. “Please just-”

Nigel bent his fingers further, his knuckles pressing against Cal’s prostate even harder with every rock of them. Nigel groaned, loudly, giving Cal a deep, hot, sloppy blowjob, wringing more sounds from him.

"Nigel…” Cal groaned, coming undone completely, writhing against the other man’s fingers, needy and wanton. “Fuck me.”

Nigel swallowed, twice, and pulled his lips off of Cal’s cock. He wasted no time at all, and crawled up Cal’s body, and grabbed a big bottle of lube off of the nightstand where it lived. They fucked too often to even put it in a drawer. Nigel slicked himself, and pressed into Cal’s ass with a moan. “Gonna make you come again, gorgeous.”

“I hope so,” Cal huffed, ass shifting up to take Nigel all the way in to the hilt. He let out a breath, and then wrapped his legs around Nigel’s hips, locking him there.

Nigel pinned Cal to the bed, and bit at his adam’s apple as he started to fuck him, hard and fast to start with, both of them far, far, far too worked up to bother with sweetness at the moment.

“Like that-” Call groaned, happy to be stuck, to be fucked, to be  _ anything _ under Nigel.

Nigel heaved Cal’s muscular legs over his shoulders and bent him almost in half as his hips sped. He reached between Cal’s legs and tugged at his balls, rolling them in one hand. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?” Nigel growled, pleased.

“You love me for it,” Cal gasped, watching Nigel as he fucked him, hard and rough.

“Yeah, I fucking do,” Nigel moaned, and pinned Cal’s hands over his head as he screwed Cal into the mattress, the muscles in his thighs and back burning as he drove himself into Cal’s blissfully tight body that never failed to make Nigel want to take him no matter where the fuck they were.

Cal’s fingers clenched into his palms, bent in half, unable to do more than just be fucked, blissfully, into the bed. He let out snarly groan as his body reached that peak, and started to edge over the top. “Nigel-”

“Come on, Cal, fucking come for me,” Nigel moaned brokenly as he hammered into Cal’s body, and gritted his teeth as he felt the orgasm start to burn through his own body.

Gasping and heaving deep breaths, Cal fell apart, coming all over himself, up his well toned stomach and chest. “Shit-” His body shook, muscles tensing and wavering all at once.

Nigel thought Cal swearing was one of the sexiest things he’d ever seen, and always had. It sent the Romanian right over the edge, and he shouted wordlessly as he came, deep inside Cal, his head spinning hard. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he gasped.

Cal groaned through being ridden through it, and the  sighed heavily, gazing up at Nigel with bright blue eyes. “Fuck, I love you.”

Nigel smiled, breathlessly, and leaned down to rest his head against Cal’s as he let his legs down, slowly. “I fucking love you, too…”

It seemed they would never grow tired of each other, not now, not ever. Cal was okay with that. How the hell they lived apart from each other, Cal didn’t know, but for now until the compound was up and running, this was how it had to be.

Nigel sighed, and kissed Cal’s warm lips, gently. “How much longer do you have to live out there?” he asked, his mind on a similar train of thought as he snuggled Cal to his chest after laying on his side.

“Until I get more people to help lead,” Cal answered, resting his hands on Nigel’s broad, hairy chest as they nuzzled their profiles together.

Nigel grunted, and stole another kiss from Cal’s mouth, then touched his jaw and looked at him close up. “I want to fucking steal you. Keep you.”

Cal hummed against his boyfriend’s mouth, eyes half lidded. “Kidnap me?”

“Yeah,” Nigel smiled, and nipped at Cal’s lower lip. “Run off to somewhere warm with you, marry you, never come back here.”

“That’s the stipulation for marriage? I have to never return here or to the compound?” Cal asked, surprised and a little… put off. The Movement was his life.

“No, no, just dreaming out loud of some island where I could feed you pineapple and coconut all day,” Nigel said. He knew Cal was not ready to leave the movement … the cult, as he thought it was. He knew Cal wasn’t fucking ready to hear that, either.

The Movement was everything to Cal, leaving felt wrong, and… isolating in a way. He smiled a little at Nigel. “So… we are still where we were before. Limbo.”

“Limbo, but I’ll be anywhere with you, gorgeous, even Limbo,” Nigel whispered, and kissed Cal under his ear.

Cal felt that if he ever expected to get marriage commitment from Nigel, he’d have to leave the Movement to get it, never the other way around. “Just as we are doing.”

“I like what we’re doing,” Nigel murmured, and kicked blankets over both of them.

“Good enough then,” Cal whispered, deciding to let it go, and not burden himself with it. He kissed Nigel’s cheek, and then curled up against him.

They were where they were, until Cal was ready to out-grow the Meyerists. Nigel knew it would happen someday; ripping Cal from them would only make him cling even more tightly to their order, their familiarity. Nigel was not a patient man, but he was learning. The stakes were high. “I fucking love you,” Nigel whispered, against Cal’s ear.

Cal breathed in deeply, and smiled, mostly to himself, nose against Nigel’s neck. “I fucking love you, too.”

“Can you sleep here, tonight?” Nigel asked, and let himself get comfortable.

Cal wasn’t moving even if Nigel kicked him out. “Yeah. I can stay.”

“Good,” Nigel hummed, and kissed Cal’s face again, then wrapped his long, hairy leg around Cal’s hips. “Love it when you stay over. Everything’s better.”

Peeking open his blue eyes, Cal looked at Nigel as he was all but bear hugged with all limbs. “I’ll try to stay more often.”

“Good,” Nigel rumbled, looking at Cal up close. “You can come anytime. Surprise me.”

Cal smirked and bit Nigel’s chin gently. “You’ll never know what hit you.”

“I’d fucking love it, come home and find you here? Any fucking time,” Nigel chuckled.

“Maybe I’ll stay tomorrow and decorate your place,” Cal offered, quietly,  flipping them so he was laying on Nigel, their legs now tangled together under the sheets.

Nigel grinned up at Cal with uneven teeth, and leaned up to kiss him. “Yeah? Do whatever the hell you want to it, I’ll love the shit out of it.”

“You’ll hate it,” Cal chuckled, knowing he couldn’t really decorate his place at the compound anyway, it wasn’t within the Movements beliefs, and now that he thought on it, it was better done here.

“No, I fucking won’t,” Nigel yawned, and held Cal a little tighter, like he was holding a favorite plush toy before sleeping.

Cal nuzzled his face into Nigel's chest, and then rested up against him. “We will see.”

“Sure,” Nigel sighed, and closed his eyes, falling asleep with Cal in his arms, right where he wanted him.


End file.
